On the day after he was taken ashore Darrin opened his eyes with a light of recognition in them. At the foot of the cot, in a chair, sat a stalwart, youthful figure. Dan Dalzell, whose orders took him to sea again that night, was waiting to the last for better news.
"Dan," Dave called, softly, and Dalzell was instantly bending over him.
"David, little giant, did you know that the 'Reed' had the good luck to pick you up?" asked Dan, eagerly.
"I had a notion of it, but I was too dazed to know really," Darrin answered.
"I've been here about all the time ever since," Dan went on. "I wanted to know the news of you as soon as it could be had. But you're going to be all right, now."
"Of course I am," agreed Dave, feebly.
Unseen by the man on the hospital cot, Dan signalled with one hand. Down the ward came a doctor, followed by a young woman wearing the blue cape ulster of the Red Cross. There was a quick, glad cry; soft lips touched Dave's face.
"Belle!" gasped Dave, delightedly.
"I'm going to be allowed to sit by you quite a bit, dear, if you don't try to talk to me," replied the steady voice of Belle Darrin. Summoned by cable sent by Dan, Belle had journeyed swiftly from France.
"And now I'm off and back to my ship, Belle," said Dan. "But I know you'll find a way to get a radio message through to me when Dave is improved enough to warrant it. Good-bye, Darry, old chap!"
